Five Kings
Five Kings is an encounter in the Melody of the Maze. It comes after Culinary Colloquy, Runt Punt, or Amateur Assassins. Enemies *Card-Playing Kobold (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Card-Playing Beastman (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Card-Playing Demon (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Card-Playing Orc (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Card-Playing Soldier (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) Transcript Introduction Back in East Kruna you attended a lot of interesting and eclectic gatherings -- from dining with the king and his courtiers to imbibing more wine than was good for you at an elven symposium in the middle of a moonlit glade. You even broke bread with the yeast-worshippers of Grine, an activity which involved vanquishing a bread golem before its 'flesh' could be eaten. But in spite of your relative worldliness, you've never seen anything quite like this. A kobold, a beastman, a demon, an orc, and a woman wearing Crenus' colors are sitting around a table. A heap of gold glitters at its center. Smaller, sadder piles rest in front of each of them. The beastman, soldier, and kobold are clutching playing cards -- holding them near their faces, only their inscrutable backs displayed to the others. Similar hands, these ones apparently discarded, lie on the table in front of the orc and demon. "I'm out, damn it," the soldier says. She sets her cards down on the table's dark wood, their faces upturned to display their inadequacy. "Two pairs?" the orc snorts. "Knew you didn't have anything." "Between us," the beastman says, staring at the kobold. "Show me what you have," the kobold hisses. The beastman spreads his cards on the table in the manner of a conjurer performing a trick. "Full galleon," he says. You can make out the tens of swords, skulls and crowns, and the eights of skulls and treasures. A strong hand. "Ha!" the kobold says. He lays his own cards down. "Five kings!" He reaches his scaly hands towards the heap of gold in the middle of the table. The beastman leaps up and grabs him by the wrist. "Five kings?" he growls. "Yes! My winnings! Get your paw off me!" "There are only four kings in the deck, you cheating bastard!" The other players jump to their feet. A moment later cards, coins, punches, chairs, and even the table itself are flying amidst the whirling melee. It seems like a splendid time to pick them off while they're distracted... Conclusion You're picking your way over the debris, pondering whether you should bother taking the gold coins scattered across the stone, when something catches your eye. It's a small wooden box, the right dimensions for holding playing cards. A little stream of them has splashed out from its open mouth, like blood from a wound. You crouch down and gather them together before inspecting their faces. The Major Arcana. The cards favored by fortunetellers -- true seers and covetous charlatans alike. They must have been left in the box while the Minor Arcana were used in the game. Without quite knowing why, you feel compelled to turn the cards over once more -- concealing their identities -- and shuffle them. The harp music, which had previously slipped back into a quiet, subdued background noise after the destruction of your final adversary, takes on an almost interrogative tone. The distant bard is... curious? You draw a card, then flip it over and set it on the stone floor in the same swift motion. An image of brightly colored, intertwined lengths of fiber stares up at you. The Threads of Fate. The music quickens. The next card slips free. Again you turn it at the same moment you set it down, allowing its nature to be revealed as it takes its place beside the first. It shows a man playing a lute. The Bard. The music soars into a melody both wondrous and wondering. There's trepidation in your fingers when they select the final card. The harp's voice slips into a murmur pregnant with undisguised anticipation. The card turns and descends, completing the trio. Its image is that of a woman, a beautiful and grim maiden dressed in flowing white robes. In one hand she clutches a long, straight sword. In the other she holds a golden chalice. There's a colorful sliver between the cup's lips, the tiniest hint of the rich purple liquid within. Judgment. Her blade prepared to smite the wicked, her chalice ready to reward the virtuous. A strange sound draws your attention away from the three cards. No, not a sound... The absence of sound. Silence, for the first time since you arrived in this place. It only lasts for the barest fraction of a second, before the harp resumes its song. But that miniscule fragment of noiselessness echoes in your mind. You ponder its implications as you continue on your way. Category:Melody of the Maze Category:Melody of the Maze